


Jar Jar's Judgement

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In an alternative canon, Jar-Jar becomes the leader of rogue group of Gungans desperate to bring justice to the Galaxy.Will they succeed?





	Jar Jar's Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work - constructive criticism will be ignored.

It was a bleak, rainy day as Jar-Jar took the stage. Surrounded by the hooded and cloaked figures of those he had once seen as friends. It had been many long years since the trial, years spent wasting away through countless appeals processes he had not called for, when all he wanted now was the sweet silence and mercy of death. Jar-Jar could not forgive himself for the things he had done.

Most days he tried not to think of the screams, or the grasping, desperate hands of the countless innocents he had found wanting. He had been the last thing so many innocent eyes had beheld, and now it was his turn to face the eternity of death. He said he was just following his conscience. That was what Jar-Jar told himself to get through the day; if his victorious captors would not allow him the sweet silence of death on his own terms, he would have to await their justice. But their vengeance would not allow him absolution. He had made peace with a god he had long since forgotten.

_Jar-Jar walked down the line of kneeling, terrified droids, shooting them in the back of the head, one at a time. That was what these traitors deserved. Treachery to the Republic would yield only one reward: death._

The years had not been kind to Jar-Jar. His once youthful skin had turned sallow and grey. Eyes that once shone with hopeful, joyful light now burned with the desire for a forgiveness that could simply never be given, and which none would offer. His once clean-pressed uniform had been replaced by a one-size-fits-all grey prison jumpsuit. The once proud march of the Gungan general-come-senator was replaced by the shuffle of a broken man. The things he had seen would break a normal person, let alone the things he had done.

_The Secessionists had broken and fled like the cowards they were. In their wake, they left caches of ammunition and fuel they had failed to destroy in the haste of their flight. Jar-Jar walked among the charred bodies of those who had been to slow to flee. He heard soft moaning, and turned to find the burned body of a Secessionist officer, clinging desperately to the last shreds of his pitiful life. He looked Jar-Jar in the eyes, his tear-filled gaze finding no compassion nor mercy in Jar-Jar’s iron-hard stare. Jar-Jar placed his staff on the burnt man’s throat, and thrust downwards._

Snapping back to reality, Jar-Jar turned and saw the face of the man awaiting him at the top of the stairs. Much like him, the years had not been kind to General Kenobi, the Republic’s chief investigator into Jar-Jar’s rogue Gungan unit. He had the look of a man plagued by one too many sleepless nights. If his own nightmares were any indication, Jar-Jar knew his suffering.

_Jar-Jar had seen their kind before. Collaborators. Scum. Traitors. Those who would betray their Republic for simple material rewards. They were without honour, and those without honour were beneath consideration. As Jar-Jar read the sentence, they reacted. Some wept, some shuddered and some were simply silent, realising the inevitability of the sentence. As Jar-Jar finished his Gungans raised their blaster rifles and fired, leaving a pile of lifeless crumpled bodies. They fired again. The day's sentences were not nearly finished._

General Kenobi turned to address the crowd as Jar-Jar was led onto the platform. Palpatine summoned Jar-Jar to his office with a personal note. Upon his arrival, the Chancellor gave Jar-Jar a simple task. Bring the fear of god to the traitors. Make them fear to raise their heads above the parapet. Carve a bloody swathe through the galaxy, and let not one traitor live. For this Jar-Jar had executive authority, He would not be judged by mere men, but by history. The march of aeons would vindicate him.

“For crimes against Republic and its people, the rogue Senator Jar-Jar Binks has been sentenced to death. On the orders of the senatorial investigative committee convened by Chancellor Palpatine, Binks is hereby stripped of all rank, and sentenced to be hung by the neck until dead. The Sentence will be carried out effective immediately. In the Chancellor’s name, death to the traitor!”

_His men dead around him, and himself surrounded, Jar-Jar was prepared to meet his end. His belief in the cause had never wavered, and now, his death approaching, he would not falter. He stood, marching into the corridor, firing his blaster on fully automatic before catching two stun bolts straight to the chest. Two figures appeared in Jar-Jar’s pain-wracked vision. These were not droids. Outfitted in white armour, the lead figure spoke into a comm-bead “High value package secured, General Kenobi”_

Jar-Jar knew he had been used. Palpatine had used him and discarded him. Made him a tool, and smashed him. Jar-Jar did not care. He was past caring. He had done what he had done on his own initiative. He had tried to blame the Chancellor, but who would believe the word of a traitor and a war criminal over the Republic’s Chancellor?

_The committee sat impassively. The Foreman stood and read the verdict. Guilty on all counts. Jar-Jar knew this day would come, and he knew that he deserved it. He no longer had any will to fight. He would accept the Republic’s justice._

A hood went over Jar-Jar’s head and he felt a rope secured around his throat. He was marched forward, and time seemed to slow. The floor gave way beneath his feet, and he fell. His neck did not break. He hung there, suspended, his legs spasming. His bladder began to leak and he began to asphyxiate, but he did not care. This was what he deserved. The justice for his many crimes. Despite the hood blocking his vision, he saw the faces of all the innocents he had killed, hearing their screams as he was dragged into oblivion. There he hung, slowly dying as the soft rain fell all around.

Jar-Jar would not be vindicated by history, but he would be judged by the march of aeons.


End file.
